Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. He jumped back, wrenching the sword away. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. Her voice was weak and flat. “Cheer up, Annabel. ” “Perhaps not in a general way,” he answered calmly. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. He has nothing to fall back upon, no substitute; but a woman always has the mother love. What's all this about, anyhow? You.
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